


mother knows best

by ccj



Series: Meddlesome [1]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, a SPRINKLE of ambi too!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccj/pseuds/ccj
Summary: Leave it be isn’t really in Bex Mack’s vocabulary.Or: 5 times Bex meddles in Cyrus’s love life + 1 time she doesn’t have to





	mother knows best

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series I'm working on of 5 times 1 times of other characters meddling in Cyrus and TJ's relationship! Some will be canon compliant and some au's, this one is mostly canon compliant. Enjoy! :)

1.

Cyrus comes out to Bex by accident. Or at least, it seems to be by accident. Honestly, she’s been waiting on it for awhile. Between the way Cyrus gushes about Jonah (or used to) and the way Andi laughed a little too hard when Bex asked if she should have a rule against him sleeping over (she’s new at this, okay?!) it seems like the natural next step.

In the end, the rule doesn’t go into place and Cyrus sits across from her at their tiny table the day after a sleepover, cutting his sausage up into tiny pieces because he likes to cut up all his food before he eats it. He says it’s easier to just get it all over with because he’s not the best with knives.

She’s _this_ close to reaching over and just cutting it up for the poor boy herself when she gets distracted by Bowie laughing which is, to be fair, a very easy distraction. “Look at this,” he holds his phone up revealing a text from Cookie.

“So many handsome men on this boat Steven!” she reads out loud in an exaggerated voice which makes him laugh harder, “I swear one looks just like that Adam Lovin on that singing show your aunt’s always watching! So handsome.” She drops the accent, “Wait, Lovin?”

“She means Levine,” Bowie shakes his head.

“That’s ridiculous,” Andi pipes up from where she’s been silently texting on her phone the whole meal, smiling intermittently. “Adam Levine is _so_ not handsome.” Bex snorts, making Andi’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god, you think he’s handsome.”

Bowie frowns, “Is that the descriptor we’re using now?”

“So what if I do?! Just because you like the primped and polished look doesn’t mean we all do! Some of us prefer a more...rugged man.”

“Aww you think I’m rugged?” Bowie smiles around a mouthful of pancakes, “Thanks babe!”

“So not the point.”

“Yeah Andi,” Cyrus abandons the fork and knife he’s been intently cutting with, “The point is that your type is primped and polished,” he grins, “This is very important, let’s delve into this.”

“Oh my god we are so not _delving_ into this!” Andi groans, blushing red, phone now abandoned. “Like you’re one to talk anyways,” she says offhandedly.

“Oooh,” Bex and Bowie chorus together as if they’re at all privy to Cyrus’s love life. It just feels like a natural response to a comeback.

“Hey now,” Cyrus keeps his eyes focused on Andi, “Just because I liked Jonah for a brief spell doesn’t mean he’s…” his eyes go wide at his own words, like he wasn’t expecting them, “my type…” he trails off.

Bex’s eyes go so wide she’s pretty sure she matches him. She turns to Bowie for some silent communication but he’s cool as a cucumber, carefully pouring more syrup onto his pancakes. “Brief spell…” he turns to Bex, “Is that how kids talk now or is that just a Cyrus thing?”

“Definitely just a Cyrus thing,” Andi’s voice goes up in that way it always does when she’s nervous and she’s looking at Bex with that _mom, say something_ look. Bless her daughter for actually knowing how to communicate without words.

“So, Cyrus,” Bex turns to the boy in question, who is now determinedly shoving an entire strip of turkey bacon in his mouth. “Are you saying you have a new crush? A rugged crush? A tattooed Adam Levine esque crush? Wait you’re too young for that, scratch that part,” she wags her coffee cup between both kids, “No tattoos!”

“Yeah, not til your eighteen!” Bowie adds, earning an elbow punch from Bex.

“Wait do you?” Andi hits Cyrus’s arm at the same time, eyebrows raised.

“No!” His voice comes out far too squeaky. The table looks at him expectantly.

“Oh I think he does…” Bex grins, “I think he absolutely dooooes!”

“No...I don’t. I’m just saying that if I did...he…” he looks at Bex and Bowie as if sizing them up, “Wouldn’t be the Jonah Beck type,” he crinkles his nose.

“Okay but same!” Andi grins at her best friend and sometimes, Bex is just so glad she raised her daughter exactly like this.

“Hey,” Bowie frowns, “I like Jonah!”

“I do too,” Cyrus affirms seriously, “but liking Jonah Beck and _like liking_ Jonah Beck are two completely different things.”

“Yeah dad,” Andi nods, “Consider yourself lucky. Ah to be old and not have to worry about every thought in Jonah Beck’s head!”

“HEY!” Bex and Bowie shout at the same time.

“I’m not old!” Bowie protests.

“This is not what old looks like. This,” Bex gestures wildly at her own face, “is the pinnacle of youth.”

“Uh huh. I’m just saying, you have it made.”

“So does Buffy,” Cyrus says somberly, “Hey,” he looks to Andi, a spark in his eyes, “maybe we should have just wasted the last year crushing on Marty instead.”

They stare at each other for one long moment of silence before they burst out laughing.

*

That night, with her arms wrapped around Bowie (he’d won the fight for little spoon this time, _just_ this time), she asks him why he didn’t react when Cyrus first said it.

“I don’t know,” she feels him shrug as much as he can, his shoulders moving up slightly. “I mean it wasn’t really a surprise to me. Were you surprised?”

“No, I just...I guess I’m just surprised that he trusted us.” Andi had come to Bex that night, asked her not to mention it to Cyrus’s parents, and gave her a hug good night, which, as always, Bex treasured a little more than she thought humanly possible.

Bowie turns in Bex’s arms slowly, so they’re head on now but her grip isn’t any looser. “We’re good parents. Why wouldn’t he trust us?”

“Right,” Bex nods, smiling at the sound of that, “We’re good parents.”

“Great parents.”

“Killer parents.”

“Oh I’d definitely say killer.” The two grin at each other, stupidly wide grins, until Bex says, “Also, he definitely has a crush on someone new right?”

“Oh absolutely. That kid is a worse liar than Andi and that’s saying something.”

“Ugh I can’t believe we didn’t raise a liar. We really dropped the ball on that one.”

“Oh for sure.” Bowie turns back around, clearly on the verge of falling asleep. Bex stays up though, messing with the engagement ring on his finger. It soothes her, turning the circle back and forth.

“Should we like do something about it though?”

“Hmm?”

“His crush. Should we like help him out with it?”

“Nah,” Bowie mutters, clearly falling faster asleep by the second, “We can just leave it be.”

“Right,” Bex laughs a little to herself. Leave it be isn’t really in Bex Mack’s vocabulary.

2.

She does, however, forget about it for awhile because, believe it or not, she has more important things to attend to than the love life of her thirteen year old daughter’s thirteen year old best friend. That is, until the day she’s in The Red Rooster, attempting to arm wrestle her fiancé.

“No Bex,” Bowie shakes his head, straightening a stack of bills and pushing them into the cash register.

“Come on,” Bex whines, “No one’s coming out here in weather like this!” She gestures to the door where the snow is coming down in heaps. She likes the snow, she actually likes the snow a lot, but she’d like it better if she was in her living room with her daughter and almost husband under a pile of blankets with a hot cocoa in each hand. “Even Andi got to leave school! Why don’t we?!”

“Because this isn’t a school, it’s a store,” Bowie rolls his eyes, albeit in an endeared sort of way. “People expect us to be open...in case they need things.”

“In case they need _records_? In a snowstorm?” she groans, “Look, I’m just saying, arm wrestle me for it. I win, we leave. You win, we stay til closing.”

“You know I’d win right?” he flexes his muscles, “I’ve got these guitar playing arms.”

“Then you have nothing to lose,” she grins, placing her elbow on the table expectantly. He sighs and shrugs, takes her hand in his. He almost has her hand pinned (he’s definitely been taking his time in winning, for her own pride, which she appreciates) when the door bursts open, a kid quickly slamming it shut and breathing in the heat of The Red Rooster.

Bex takes advantage of the distraction to slam Bowie’s hand down with a triumphant “HA!”

“Okay, if anything a customer walking in proves my point!” Bowie drops her hand, making his way around the counter to the boy who’s taken his hat off (revealing way too gelled hair that Bex desperately wants to mess with), frantically using the beanie to warm up his hands. “Hey man, sit down, get warm. You shouldn’t be out in weather like this,” Bowie uses his firm but soft father voice that always makes Bex smile as she joins him across from the boy on the couches. “What are you doing here? Do you need a ride home?”

“No Bowie,” Bex turns to him smirking, “He could be shopping. People shop for records during snow storms you know!”

Bowie elbows her as the kid speaks up, voice gruff, “I’m shopping.”

Bowie looks torn between an “I told you so” to Bex and a lecture for the kid. She ignores the way he’s frantically looking between the two of them. It’s making her dizzy. “Uh in weather like this?”

“Yeah,” he nods, folding his arms, suddenly defensive, “I’m um, buying a present for a...friend.”

“Ooh a music lover? You know guitar lessons with this handsome fellow,” she gestures to Bowie, “make a great gift!”

“Aww Bex!”

“No um…” he looks down at the floor, “He’s not into music, or at least not that I know of? I’m just on my seventh gift and I’m running out of ideas so I was going around town but you guys are like the only place open.”

“SEE!” Bex shouts at the same time that Bowie asks “Seventh gift?”

“Yeah. He celebrates Hanukkah so I’m getting him eight gifts. If I can still manage it, that is…”

Bowie “Awws” as Bex shouts “Oh my god!” and slaps a hand to her forehead, “We should have done that for Cyrus!”

Bowie frowns, “Should we have?”

“I don’t know! Probably! Oh I feel like such a bad second mother!”

“I mean technically you’re third not second-”

“Okay but-”

“Cyrus Goodman?”

Bex and Bowie turn their heads quickly back to the boy. Sometimes, Bex feels like her biggest downfall as a parent is that she doesn’t notice her surroundings much when she’s talking to Bowie. She feels like she can’t be blamed too much for that one though.

“Uh...yeah?”

The kid beams. “That’s who I’m buying presents for! You know him?”

“Uh yeah, he’s basically my son…”

“We’re Andi’s parents-” Bowie quickly interjects, to which the kid nods.

She looks him up and down, “ _You_ know him?” She knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on anyone, let alone a thirteen year old, but she’s only human and this kid looks like he shoves kids in lockers and well...Cyrus looks more like the kid getting shoved in said lockers.

He nods quickly, “Yeah, Cyrus is like my best friend,” he says and Bex is about to be petty and respond with an _actually, my daughter’s his best friend_ , but then she notices the way he’s looking down and smiling softly and... _oh._

“Oh!” Bex exclaims and Bowie looks at her, eyebrows wrinkled a bit. She clears her throat, “Cool! What’s your name kid?”

“TJ. TJ Kippen.”

There’s a moment of silence before it clicks. “Like...won’t pass Buffy the ball TJ Kippen?”

“Good memory,” Bowie whispers, “I was wondering why it sounded familiar.”

“A mother,” she taps the side of her own head, “never forgets.”

She looks back at the kid to see that he’s frowning, a deep sort of frown. “We’re um past that. I mean, I’ve apologized! You can ask her or Andi! Or-”

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay kid. We trust you. And anyways, if you’re lying…” Bowie wags a finger as if he’s at all threatening, “No guitar lessons for you!”

Bex snorts, “That’s your threat?”

“I literally don’t have anything else. So!” he turns back to TJ, “You need help buying a present for Cyrus?”

“Oh no…” Bex grins, “He needs help buying a seventh present for Cyrus.” Bex isn’t sure if she’s just looking for it now, but she swears the kid is blushing.

“Right,” Bowie laughs a little, “Okay! Well I think you were right, there’s really not too much for him here. I don’t think he’s much of a music guy. Do you sing? You could write him something.”

“Bowie Quinn’s number one mission in life,” Bex throws her hands up dramatically, “teaching kids the power of writing songs.”

Bowie nudges her in her side and TJ shakes his head. “I um...rap a little,” he rubs a hand against the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “but I don’t know. I tried to write something for Cyrus but I just...couldn’t...find the right words.”

“So...what if they weren’t your words?” Bex taps her fingers together conspiritally.

“What?”

“Make him a mix! Wait, hold on!” She runs to the front desk, shuffles through a few drawers and comes back with a blank cassette tape, “Here. Don’t ask me what it is, I’ll feel way too old.”

“No, I know what it is,” TJ takes it in his hands, turns it over a few times. “I don’t know if he’d be able to play it though? And I don’t know how to download songs to it…”

“It’s just the gesture, how you give it to him! Just tape the list of the songs or the spotify link or whatever to it!”

“That’s…actually a great idea. How much?”

“Hmm?” Bex is far too occupied by beaming with pride.

“How much does the cassette cost?”

“Oh no,” Bowie quickly waves a hand, “It’s on the house.”

“Really?” TJ’s eyes go wide.

“Yeah. For Cyrus? Anything’s on the house. Well not anything, there’s some expensive stuff in here! But no one really buys those tapes anyways so…”

“Thanks!” The kid slips it into his pocket, “And thanks for the idea and well…” he looks regretfully at the front door, “the heat.”

“Ah yeah, sorry kid, but we definitely have to get you home safe. I think I’d lose father of the year if I let my daughter’s best friend’s best friend go into a blizzard alone.” TJ begins to protest but Bowie shakes his head, “You’re not gonna win this! Besides, we have to get home anyways.”

“We do? YES!” Bex pumps a fist in the air.

*

A few days later, when Bex goes to pick up their to go order from The Spoon (The snow may have calmed down quite a bit but it’s still staying indoors weather. She deserves her hot cocoa time.) she sees Cyrus sitting by himself, headphones in, smiling into space.

“Hey,” Bex pulls one of his headphones out with the hand that isn’t holding onto their bag of to go boxes for dear life. Cyrus lets out a yelp. “Whatcha listening to?”

“Oh! Hi Bex! Just uh...a mix my friend made me,” he reluctantly pulls his other headphone out, “I’m waiting for him now actually,” he glances to the window and quickly back to her.

“Cool, cool,” she nods, considering playing it cool but ultimately deciding against it. What’s the point of being a mother if you don’t get to embarrass some children every now and then? “Juuuust a friend? Because back in my day a mix from a boy meant-”

“Beeeeeex,” Cyrus whines but he’s still smiling.

Bex laughs and reaches down to give his cheeks a squeeze, because how could she not? “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to it but I expect to see the full track list later! His music taste needs to be vetted properly by me _and_ Bowie before this goes any further.”

She gives his blushing face a pointed finger wag, snatches a tater tot from his plate, and walks out the door.

3.

“I think I have a crush on TJ,” Cyrus says by way of greeting when he bursts into Cloud Ten on a Tuesday morning. There’s only one customer, who’s been deep in nail polish colors for awhile and is almost definitely going to walk out without buying anything so she sighs, sits Cyrus down in a salon chair (literally sits him down. He’s standing in a state of panic and she manhandles him a bit to get him there) and sits down beside him.

“Well good morning to you too,” Bex grumbles around her to go cup of coffee. She hates morning shifts.

“Sorry,” he leans back in the chair, “I just...I saw you through the window and…”

“What are you doing around here by yourself anyways? We’re not too close to your home. Either home.” She’s driven far too many carpools to and from this boy’s houses to not know that.

“Yeah I’m just...walking, pacing, ya know how it is,” He’s jittery. His leg is bouncing up and down and honestly, in her sleep deprived state his anxiety is starting to give her anxiety. She needs more coffee. “It’s just like...I like TJ. Do I like TJ? Like like, I mean, of course I like him. He’s my friend and he’s nice, especially to me, weirdly to me, and he’s funny and he’s like really smart you know, everyone thinks he’s not smart but he’s really smart and he has really good taste in music and he listens to me like really listens and I...oh my god...I like him don’t I? I think I have for a while but now it just...feels so real.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” she leans forward, places her coffee on the vanity, and spins to face him head on. Actually, she reaches forward and spins his chair too so they’ll be facing each other head on. “You need to slow down like a million miles kid. What’s going on?”

“Okay...did Andi tell you about the...you know…”

“The gun?” She tightens her grip on the arm rests of her chair. She doesn’t really like to think of gun and Andi in the same sentence and is still adjusting to the fact that she apparently has to.

“Yeah. And she told you how we thought TJ was involved but really he...well...he did the right thing.”

“Right, she told me he did. And so did you! I’m really proud of you Cyrus-”

“Okay, yes, yes, I’m an American hero! Call the Shadyside presses! Anyways, when we talked about it, TJ and I, I mean, we almost kissed? I think? Or…”

“Oh my god! Cyrus!”

“Just almost though! Or maybe not I just...we were so close like,” he holds his hand up a few inches from his face, “like this close?”

“Oh man...that’s pretty close.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying! And we didn’t or, or he didn’t but I just thought he might and I… I wanted to Bex. Like, really wanted to and I…” he lowers his hand now and sinks his gaze down towards it, “Is that wrong?”

“Oh Cyrus...no, of course not. Why...would it be?”

“Because...he used to bully Buffy.”

“They resolved that.”

“This gun thing…”

“You resolved that!”

“He’s a boy.”

“Oh.” Bex reaches forward, takes Cyrus’s hand in hers. “Hey. Cyrus, look at me. Come on, work with me here, it takes two to make eye contact!” It takes him a moment but he does it.

“I’m...I’m gay Bex. I just wanted you to know that or I mean...hear it...from me. I mean, I know you already know but I just...wanted to say it, that’s all.”

She squeezes his hands. _I love you_ , she wants to say. _Thank you_ , she wants to say. Instead, she gets choked up and squeezes his hands tighter.

“I want to kiss him. What do I do?”

“Believe it or not Cyrus, I have the answer for you and this may just be the only time where you’ll come to me with a hard question and I’ll have an easy answer so you should savor this moment.”

“Okay?”

He looks at her like she holds the answer to all the questions in the universe in her hands that are still holding his and for a moment, she really wishes that she did but for now, she says, “You kiss him.”

“Oh. So...that’s it?” He draws his hands back from hers, looking a bit disappointed.

“That’s it,” She pulls her own hands back to her lap, sighing, “Things are allowed to be that simple. You deserve that Cyrus.”

*

In the end, he leaves with a promise that he’ll at least think about it, Bex cleans the bottles of essential oils that are gathering dust that her mother insisted on buying that she knew were a bad decision, and that damn customer leaves without buying any nail polish.

4.

Bex is halfway through a bag of sour gummy worms and her angsty songs for angsty days playlist when there’s a knock at the door. She sighs and braces herself for her mother on the other end, begging her or yelling at her to reconsider calling off the wedding. There’s not much of a difference between her begging and yelling these days.

She jumps up from the couch, steels herself, and throws open the front door to be met with Cyrus wearing a t shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She didn’t even know he owned sweatpants.

“Hey,” She gives a little wave.

“Hey,” He gives one back, his face as somber and serious as she imagines her own to be.

“Uh Andi isn’t home. She’s out with her dad...buying craft supplies.” The _as bribery_ is silent but she assumes implied.

Cyrus nods, “Can I um...come in anyways? I’m sorry, I just need to get away from my parents right now...all of them.” He pushes his hands deep into his pockets, “I just...sorry this is so rude of me, I know you have a lot going on-”

“Cyrus,” Bex’s face goes soft suddenly. She hasn’t gotten Andi to say a word to her in a week and she misses this, parenting without a slammed door in between. “Come in, come in,” she steps to the side and immediately heads to the living room assuming he’ll follow. When he does, she hands him a blanket to wrap himself in and holds up the gummy worms as a peace offering.

“No no,” He shakes his head. “You don’t wanna see me with a sugar rush. It’s intense.”

“Alright. More for me,” She throws one back before looking to him inquisitively, “So um...did you have a fight with your parents?”

“No. They’re just...all therapists.”

“Oh...so…?”

“So they keep asking me what’s wrong and I…” He looks down at his lap with those sad eyes she’s never seen on him before, “I can’t tell them the answer to that.”

“Ah. Okay well as long as your parents know where you are you can stay here today.” She gives him a pat on his hand and he smiles up at her, a forced sort of smile but a genuine one, as he thanks her. She wants to tell him that there’s no thanks necessary, that there’s always a space for him in their apartment no matter how tiny it is (which is very tiny, because really, when is Bowie going to get started on those damn renovations?). Instead, she finds herself saying, “So uh...what _is_ wrong?”

He groans into his blanket, “Not you too!”

“Sorry. I may not be a therapist but I _am_ a parent so I’m kind of contractually obligated to ask. You don’t have to talk about it but I’m...here, Cyrus.”

He nods, thanks her again, and begins to stare into space. She kind of assumes that’s the end of it, starts flicking through her list of wedding cancellations to make on her phone until minutes later when he sighs, eyes still glued to the blank TV screen, “Boys suck.”

Bex snorts out a laugh, “Yeah that’s kind of an undebatable fact, especially at your age.” _At your age_. She’ll never get used to the way that that sounds.

“Ha,” Cyrus grabs a sole gummy worm from her bag, rolls it around in his hand for a moment, looking at it thoughtfully. “They’re just so confusing...why can’t they just...mean what they say and say what they mean? Am I like this? I mean, I’m a boy too but I really don’t feel like I’m like this!” He throws his hands up in exasperation, accidentally flinging the gummy worm across the room and muttering a near silent _oops_.

“Ah but you’re forgetting one important detail,” Bex leans forward, grabs a tissue, and uses it to wipe the sugar leftover on his pointer finger because she learned awhile ago that he was the kind of kid who was raised to always use a napkin, “You’ve had a Bar Mitzvah. You, Cyrus Goodman, are no boy. You’re a man.”

Cyrus laughs at that, a genuine laugh, and for a moment she lets herself feel proud and just savor that feeling before she turns back to him. “Okay. So...TJ?”

He groans again, “Yeah. It’s uh...kind of a long story.”

“So?! I’m made of time and ears! Hit me with it!”

He nods, takes a deep breath and then, miraculously, he does.

*

She wasn’t planning on doing anything about it. Really, she wasn’t. She listened to him and she supported him and if she got a little more angry at a thirteen year old than she probably should have, who needed to know?

The thing is, Shadyside is a small town, always too small for its own good and it wasn’t even a week until she ran into TJ absentmindedly shuffling through records outside of The Red Rooster. It had just been six more days of her mother’s angry phone calls and Cyrus laying on her living room carpet until his parents went to sleep and Andi slamming her bedroom door after every meal that Bex made her come to because she was her mother and she was slowly learning to put her foot down. And seeing TJ outside of the window, shuffling through every title then setting them back, again and again and again…

She storms through the front door, attempting to slam it but it doesn’t really have the same effect as a bedroom door.

“Hey,” she snaps, causing his head to jump up, “Are you going to buy something or not? Because you’re kind of blocking my store. My fiancé’s store. My boyfriend’s store. Whatever, you’re blocking the store,” she gestures wildly at The Red Rooster’s sign.

TJ’s eyes go wide. “Oh uh...sorry-”

“Whatever. Are you going to apologize to Cyrus or what?”

“Uh..”

“Look,” She takes a few steps forward, “I’m not your mother or even his mother though I...kind of am. It doesn’t matter! I’m no one’s mother but my daughter’s so I’m not going to tell you what to do but I care about Cyrus and I know you do too so what are you doing? Honestly, what?”

“Um...I’m. Mrs. Mack…”

“Ew,” Her nose wrinkles, “That’s my mother. Look, believe it or not I remember being in middle school. And when I was your age...wow that never gets easier to say does it?” He’s staring at her in total shock but she charges ahead anyways, “You’re young. Nothing makes sense. It’s not going to make sense. But if you care about someone, really care about them, buy them eight presents care about them? That’s worth hanging onto TJ. Cyrus Goodman is worth hanging onto.”

“Oh…” He says it like he’s thinking, like she’s planted a thought in his head that he’s _actually thinking about_ and for the first time in two weeks it just feels like _something._

“Now buy something or go zone out elsewhere,” she turns on her heels, leaving him open mouthed, a record in hand.

5.

Eventually, Andi stops shovelling all her meals as quickly as she can to escape, her mom stops calling just to yell, Bowie goes to the courthouse and changes his last name despite the lack of wedding, and Cyrus starts smiling more. She finds him like this, smiling at the ceiling when she goes to check on their latest sleepover. Apparently, the Macks’ apartment has been rated best sleepover house which is a title she takes very seriously but even though she’s the “cool mom” she’s still a mom and she still wants to make sure that her kid, or really kids, are safe and honestly, going to bed soon.

Instead, she just finds Cyrus, alone on Andi’s bed, with that weird smile on his face.

“Uh...where’s my daughter?” She hovers in the doorway, places one hand on her hip, and is struck by just how much she sounds like her mother sometimes.

“Hmm?” Cyrus turns his head towards her lazily, “Oh, she and Buffy are in the bathroom doing ‘girl stuff’” He makes air quotes. Bex raises an eyebrow. “Blindfolded makeovers. For truth or dare. They want to surprise me with the results.”

“Ohhhh, okay,” Bex breathes out a sigh of relief that everyone is safe and accounted for before sitting down on Andi’s bed beside Cyrus, criss cross applesauce, “So…truth or dare Cyrus?”

Cyrus lets out a small laugh, “It’s not even my turn!”

“I’m gonna assume you’d pick truth,” Bex continues, “and I’m gonna ask you...whatcha smiling about?” She pokes his dimple and he swipes her hand away, immediately embarrassed.

He’s silent for a moment before he rolls over, turning to face her, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Oh of course! Girl scout’s honor!” She holds up two fingers, “Although I was never a girl scout so I’m not really sure what that’s good for. I did do brownies for a year. Well half a year, I quit when-”

“I kissed TJ. Or he kissed me,” Cyrus brings his hands to his face, clearly still grinning behind them.

“Oh my god!” Bex squeals, earning a swift shushing from Cyrus who lowers his hands from his face to look around in panic. “Oh my god! Cyrus! What! When?! Was this your first kiss?! Cyrus!” She reaches forward and gives his shoulders a shake excitedly.

“I...I mean I kissed Iris,” Bex makes a confused face, “Ex girlfriend, friend of Amber’s. Doesn’t really matter.”

“Oh well...your first boy kiss then?! Is that a thing?!”

“I don’t know,” Cyrus giggles, honest to god giggles. “But it did um...I don’t know. I kissed Iris so long ago but I just remember that it felt...off, like something was missing and with TJ it was just um...all there ya know? Plus a little more, haha,” he brings a hand back up to his face, leaning his cheek against it. He’s swooning. Fully and completely swooning.

“Cyrussss,” Bex borderline sings, “I’m so happy for you. And proud of you. And I cannot wait to show up to your first date on my motorcycle and intimidate him a bit,” she laughs maniacally.

“We haven’t really talked about uh...a date. That’s why I haven’t told Buffy or Andi yet because...I don’t know. I mean I’m happy, I’m really happy but what if this doesn’t mean anything?”

“Cyrus. You’re fourteen years old. When you’re fourteen years old a kiss means _everything_.”

“Then why hasn’t he asked me out yet?” He whines.

“Well...why haven’t you asked him out yet?”

“Oh…” Cyrus’s eyes go wide, “OH! I can do that can’t I?”

“Yup,” Bex pops the p and Cyrus scrambles for his phone.

“What do I say?! How do I start it?!”

“You’re asking him now? Through text? Wow the future is amazing and...I don’t really know how any of this works anymore. You should ask Buffy and Andi, they’ll know what to do. Trust me on this one.”

“Honestly Bex,” Cyrus tosses his phone between his hands, “I kinda trust you on _every_ one.”

“As you should!” She reaches forward and ruffles his hair, causing him to scrunch up his face, “Mother knows best,” she grins, leaving him to stare contemplatively at his phone.

*

She doesn’t stick around to see if he tells Buffy and Andi but by the loud screaming that comes soon after, she assumes that he took her advice. She gives them 25 minutes (which she thinks is very generous) before coming in to tell them to quiet down and as a matter of fact, head to bed soon. She attempts to come off stern but when Andi let’s out a “moooom!” and an eye roll through lopsided eyeliner and smeared lipstick, she can’t keep the smile from her face.

+1

They settle on a party. It’s the most she ever really wanted out of a wedding anyways and it’s enough to satisfy Andi and Bowie and not really her mother, but she’ll live. The apartment is finally renovated so it doubles as a housewarming and... it’s a compromise. Bex wears a short white dress with frayed ends under a jean jacket and Bowie wears his father’s tux and it feels like what adulthood should be.

Andi opts for the dress she wore to Cyrus’s Bar Mitzvah (from the party, not the service) but it’s still a casual affair, complete with facebook event invites to her mom’s horror. Still, CeCe makes the decorations with Andi, Bowie makes the food, and Bex is put in charge of the guest list. She may or may not jump up and down in her room when she gets a text from Cyrus, formal as ever, asking if he can bring a date.

She’s zoning out during a particularly long conversation with Bowie and the Renaissance Boys about tour stories she’s heard a million times when she spots Cyrus making a late entrance to the party (well, it’s only about fifteen minutes late but it’s late for him) and makes her excuses to break way.

“I just feel underdressed, am I underdressed?” TJ picks at his hoodie insecurely, trailing behind Cyrus who’s dressed to the nines and too busy smiling up at TJ to notice her approaching.

“No! If anything I’m overdressed.”

“Nah,” She notices that their hands are locked together when TJ swings them back and forth and says, “You look perfect.”

He beams and Bex almost feels bad interrupting. Almost. “Cyrus!”

“Bex!” He lets go of TJ’s hand, rushing forward to hug her, “Congratulations!”

She pulls back, tucking her hands into her pockets (because of course she’s wearing a dress with pockets, what other type is there?) “Oh thank you! I didn’t really do anything but who am I to turn down a good congratulations?”

“Oh come on, you did all this!” He gestures to the party, already in full swing, “Very impressive. People don’t realize that a good party doesn’t just happen overnight!”

TJ lets out a laugh that sounds more like a snort, “Since when are you an expert on party planning?”

“Um excuse you, I’ll have you know that my cousins will eternally be jealous of my Bar Mitzvah, it’s Goodman family lore at this point! I’ve got skills! And if you think I’m not throwing you a birthday party next month I’m not sure if you know me at all!”

TJ giggles. She wasn’t aware a kid literally taller than her who seems to exclusively own hoodies was even capable of giggling but there really is no other word for the way he’s laughing and smiling at Cyrus who’s smiling right back. The way they’re looking at each other almost makes her feel like she’s intruding. At her own party.

As if reading her mind, Cyrus breaks his gaze with TJ and turns to Bex, eyes wide. “Oh! Wow, where are my manners?! My mom would kill me! TJ, this is Bex, Andi’s mom. Bex, this is my boyfriend TJ.”

Bex can’t help the little gasp she lets out. “Cyrus!” She ignores the hand that TJ’s outstretched to shake hers (he’s probably learned a thing or two about manners from Cyrus) and leans out to give Cyrus a mock slap on the arm, “How long were you going to keep this from me?!”

“I was doing you a favor! You never give a party planner big news pre party, everyone knows that!”

“I really don’t think that’s a thing,” TJ mutters.

“Hey! Don’t doubt the expert!”

“Never. Well um, it’s nice to meet you Ms. Mack,” She looks down to see that his hand is still outstretched. Wow, this kid is nervous. “I mean, we’ve met! It’s not that I’ve forgotten you I just mean...formally meet you? I mean as Cyrus’s boyfriend! I mean I-”

“Wait you’ve met?” Cyrus looks between the two until his phone pings. He pulls it out of his pocket and gasps, “Oh my gosh, TJ! We forgot the kugel in the car!”

“You brought kugel? Cyrus!”

“Yeah, that’s why we were late! Making it took longer than my Aunt Ruthie led on!”

“You didn’t have to do that!”

“Oh we absolutely did. You never show up empty handed to a party and well, it’s kind of an inside joke I have with Bowie...my mom’s out front with it, I’ll be right back!” He gives TJ a quick kiss on the cheek and darts outside, leaving the boy blushing and wiping his palm (which he’s finally returned to his side, thank god) against his pants nervously.

“Um...if you want to give me the ‘if you ever hurt him’ talk you can but Buffy already has and it honestly doesn’t get more threatening than that.”

Bex laughs, “Nah I’m good.”

“You...you are?”

“Yeah. You like him too much to ever hurt him, at least intentionally, don’t you?”

“Um...yeah,” TJ nods, “I do.”

“Whoa now, save those words til your my age,” She winks and without thinking much of it, darts out to give him a quick hug. “I don’t really do handshakes,” she explains when she pulls back a moment later, “and I’m really glad you’re here TJ. Just keep making him smile like that and we’re all good. Got it?”

He nods just as Cyrus comes back in, kugel and smile in question in tow. “Ta da!” The kugel teeters dangerously in Cyrus’s hand and TJ quickly grabs it from him, “Night saved!”

“I didn’t really think it was ruined,” TJ says.

“Oh hush. Where should I put this?”

“In the kitchen. I think Andi’s around there somewhere with Amber,” Bex offers.

“Of course she is,” TJ mutters earning a hard elbow nudge from Cyrus and a “What?” from Bex.

“Nothing!” Cyrus says in his far too squeaky lying voice, “Come on, to the kitchen we go Kippen!” He squeals, scrambling for TJ’s free hand and locking it with his once again before leading him through the house.

*

“They look happy. And they make a damn good kugel! With raisins!” Bowie presses a hand to Bex’s back, nodding to where Cyrus and TJ are sitting in the corner of the living room, Cyrus talking emphatically while TJ hangs onto every word and gently takes a cup of fruit punch out of Cyrus’s hand so it doesn’t splash with every gesture.

“Yeah,” Bex sighs, leaning into the pressure of Bowie’s hand on her back and wrapping her arms around him, “His first boyfriend. We’re getting old aren’t we?!”

“Oh yeah, your daughter’s best friend having a boyfriend is definitely the first sign of getting old,” Bowie chuckles.

“Hey! He’s more than that and you know it! He’s ours too.”

“Of course he is, I didn’t say otherwise!”

“Good,” She watches Cyrus grab for the cup as TJ holds it just out of reach, smirking. “Ah to be fourteen and in love.”

“Hey. Thirty and in love is pretty great too,” Bowie takes a step away from her, holding one hand in the air, “Dance with me madam?”

“It would be my pleasure,” She takes his hand and leans in, pressing her head against his chest. The fabric of the tuxedo feels stiff and smells a bit musty despite getting dry cleaned. She smiles against it as they sway and time slows or maybe the music just does and really, this is the only wedding cliche she needed.

“Hey uh...should we talk to her about ya know…?” Bowie trails off and not so subtly nods his head to where Andi’s swaying with Amber, her own head placed against Amber’s chest. Amber throws a bit of her blonde hair over Andi’s head, like it’s a wig, and they pull apart to laugh only to come back together after, closer than before.

“Yeah, not now though. We should leave em be,” Bex says, watching the pair fondly for a moment before turning her gaze back up to Bowie, “They deserve tonight.”

“Right. You’re right, you’re right.”

“Ah how I love to hear those words,” She grins up at him, “Say them again! Shower me in them!”

“I love you,” He whispers instead. She thinks that might be just as good.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If u enjoyed, Marty's up next :)


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